


How to Succeed in Business (without blowing it)

by orphan_account



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Canon Universe, Chairman Election Arc (Hunter X Hunter), Crack, Exhibitionism, Flirting, Hate Sex, Humor, M/M, Mind Games, Office Blow Jobs, One-sided Ging Freecs/Beans (Hunter x Hunter), Oneshot, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Humor, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:53:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Spoiler alert: they blew it
Relationships: Ging Freecs/Pariston Hill
Comments: 13
Kudos: 62





	How to Succeed in Business (without blowing it)

Due to the unforeseen event that was Netero actually fucking dying, Ging found himself summoned to the Hunter Association headquarters to partake in the chairman election. He really didn’t want to be chairman, but he needed to make sure that Pariston wouldn’t take the lead and get the spot because he was the most popular candidate. Most people didn’t even know his policies, just that “hey, he was the Vice Chairman so he must be qualified.” Qualified, yes, he was. A good choice? Far from.

But the worst part was that even after setting up the election, he was kept on the premise. Ging twitched his eye as he looked at the stack of paperwork waiting for him in his office. He rarely showed up; he would rather be out in the field, travelling and getting his hands dirty. Up here, getting his hands dirty had a completely different meaning.

“This fucking  _ blows _ ,” complained Ging, sitting down in his dusty office chair as it failed to spin one complete circle around. Piece of shit. He’d swapped his and Kanzai’s chairs a few months ago but he’d probably swapped them back sometime between. 

“Maybe it’s because you’re so unaccustomed to actually doing work,” said Pariston, leaning in his doorway. Ging eyed the evil twink. He had a mischievous nature cut with actual competence. Calling him a mastermind was incorrect; it was easy to win any game if you never explained the rules. 

“I’m not doing this,” said Ging, shoving the paperwork into the trash. “If it’s been sitting here this long it’s obviously not important anyways.”

“An acute observation as always, Ging,” said Pariston, half sitting on top of Ging’s desk but twisted around to look at him. “Perhaps we could make a deal.”

“I’m not voting for you, nor am I going to campaign for you. In fact I’m going to campaign  _ against _ you, not even  _ for _ anyone, because that’s how much I think you should fail.”

Pariston’s lips crept into a smile. Ging tilted his chin up at him cockily. Pariston liked these kinds of challenges. If he did win, that meant he would have outsmarted Ging. But if he didn’t, he could just blame that on the fact that Ging made it harder for him. A win win in his books. 

Pariston didn’t really have a  _ good side _ , more of just a  _ useful  _ side and a  _ hindrance _ side. Ging liked to keep himself interesting, to play Pariston’s games, because his behavior could be used to his advantage if he pulled the strings well enough. While unpredictable, sometimes unpredictability was just what he needed. 

“As it’s my fault you’re back here, perhaps I could offer some compensation? It’d have to be off the books, though, can’t let any of my employees know that you’re getting special treatment,” said Pariston, remaining completely still except for his jaw. Odd. 

“We’re in the middle of an election right now,” stated Ging. He then failed to verbally elaborate on that, but they both knew what he meant. 

It was no secret he and Pariston Hill had... avoided abstinence. Boned. Clapped cheeks. Dicked down. Eleven sevened. Fucked. Got nasty. Hit it. Intercoursed. Joined giblets. Kicked it. Let loose. Made love. Nailed. Orgasmed together. Pounded. Quaded. Railed. Slept with each other. Tapped ass. Uncorked and re-corked. Vein throbbed. Woopied. (performed) X rated acts. Yanked and spanked. Zig-zagged in the sheets. 

All rumors were derivatives of the truth, and well, this one just  _ happened _ to be true. It was one of those types of rumors that people wouldn’t believe unless they saw proof of it. Which would have worked out perfectly fine, if not for the fact that Pariston had allegedly leaked one of their sex tapes. Ging made sure to note  _ allegedly  _ because he’d tried to look it up online, but didn’t seem to be using the right keywords. If Pariston tagged him under ugly bastard, he’d tear him a new one. 

“I didn’t realize you were so scared of getting caught, don’t think I’d be able to sneak you in and out without the press noticing? I’m flattered you think I’m so popular,” boasted Pariston. Ging could almost see the sparkles around him. Almost. 

“The last time I came over I couldn’t leave for two days,” scoffed Ging. 

“Well, you shouldn’t have forgotten your key-”

“Doors are supposed to lock from the  _ inside, _ not the outside.”

“Well, mine are  _ different _ ,” snapped Pariston. Ging sighed. Pariston was only a good lay because he didn’t catch  _ feelings _ afterwards like some sort of sane person would. “But… your office door locks from the inside.”

Ging watched as Pariston dangled the offer in front of him like a worm on a hook. He could accept, and “pin Pariston to his bulletin board”, but he couldn’t concede that easily. With Pariston’s condescending smirk he assumed the other man could probably smell the horniness coming off of him, or maybe just his regular musk. That was besides the point. He couldn’t give Pariston what he wanted, he had to be difficult about it. 

“I didn’t realize  _ you _ would be scared of being caught, but I guess you do have a lot of admirers in the association who would probably take poorly if they found out I was fucking you even without the threat of losing my job,” jabbed Ging. Pariston’s pretty face remained plastic. 

“You’re implying you would have no problems if one of my underlings were to walk in on us, is that true?” asked Pariston, presenting his logical fallacy. Ging decided to buy into it, to give Pariston a bit of line before he reeled him in. 

“It’s a moot point because I’d be quiet enough that no one would bother me,” stated Ging, as a matter of fact. Pariston raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you really doubting my skills?” asked Pariston, licking his lips. “Last time you yelled so loud that we got three noise reports from the people below me.”

“That’s because you clamped my balls in a mouse trap!” 

“Hmmm.”

Ging rolled his eyes. He hated it when Pariston hmm’d at him. And by hated it, he meant he hated how it aroused him. 

“How about I suck you off under your desk. I bet I can make you slip up,” said Pariston, eyeing Ging’s crotch how a pervert would normally oogle at cleavage, lip biting and all. There it was, the offer Ging couldn’t refuse. It was a competition, so if he refused it, he was immediately conceding to the fact that Pariston Hill could make him come so loudly that people would hear it. So Pariston knew Ging wouldn’t refuse. This was the opening he’d been looking for. 

“If you  _ insist _ ,” said Ging, rolling out of his chair slightly to let Pariston weasel his way underneath him. Pariston’s eager yaoi fingers brushed his cloak out of the way as he undid his pants greedily. Pariston looked so hungry for it, but it had been a while since he’d fed him...

Pariston suckling on his cock felt naturalistically balanced, much how rats are expected to munch on cheese. Looking up at Ging with those big brown eyes of his, if Pariston had been only 3% more of a respectable person he may have found it cute, endearing even. Ging brought his hand down to pat Pariston on the head to let him know that if he wanted to even stand a chance at beating him, he would have to try a  _ lot _ harder than that. 

“Ging-san!” exclaimed the  _ last _ voice Ging wanted to hear. Well, second to last. But Gon was in a coma at the hospital, all while Ging was getting sucked off, so that wasn’t a realistic option. But this green fucker was. “I wanted to go over some of the election scheduling with you, is now a good time?” Pariston chose  _ now _ of all times to run his hands up Ging’s thighs, slowly and tantalizingly, as he found the waist of his pants, trying to slip them down. Ging fidgeted in his seat for a second, squirming ever so slightly under Pariston’s calculated touch. No, he couldn’t lose here, not when Pariston had barely gotten his pants off. 

He glanced down at the locks of blonde hair between his fingers before pulling up both hands and folding them on top of his desk. 

“I guess, but keep it  _ quick _ .”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to dawdle and waste any of your time. You know, it’s such a joy to have you back at the association, I feel like it’s been so long since we last chatted. Do you want to grab coffee afterwards? Or maybe tea? I know a whole bunch of shops that opened up around here, I’ve been meaning to try some of them out but I’ve never really had the chance, or reason to. I think I’m just looking for an excuse at this point, haha, but I figured, we need to catch up anyways so why not kill two birds with one stone?” asked Beans, chattering away. Ging felt his eye twitch. Twice. 

“Nah, I only drink…” Ging’s eyes scanned around his office for something, literally  _ anything _ to help him come up for an excuse so he wouldn’t have to meet up with Beans later. Printer Ink? No, too inedible. Coffee creamer? Too accessible. Pariston took him further down the throat.  _ Cum??? _ “Hot... water.”

“Understandable! Sometimes I feel like coffee is overrated anyways. I lack taste buds so it all tastes like hot water to me.” Beans looked at him with his cheery expression that read as ‘I have no brain cells but that’s okay’. Ging tapped his fingers against the desk. This was taking too long. 

“So…”

“Right, right, sorry Ging-san you got me all distracted,” said Beans, flustered. Ging glared at him.  _ Leave. Fucking LEAVE.  _ “I need you to sign off on a few documents for the revote, do you think you could do that for me?”

Ging squeezed his thighs around Pariston, digging his fingers into the arm of his chair as he felt Pariston’s tongue snaking around the side of his dick in a peculiar fashion. Was he… No, he couldn’t be…  _ Motherfucker! _ Was he spelling out his own name with his tongue? At least he had enough length for that. Ging grit his teeth at his own stupid joke, relaxing his leg muscles so he wouldn’t accidentally snap Pariston’s neck. He’d rather do it on purpose. 

“Yeah, I can  _ sign _ here,” said Ging, feeling his voice crack as Pariston put the tip of his cock back in his mouth. He brought his hand up to his mouth. “Hiccups.”

“Happens to the best of us,” said Beans understandingly. What a trooper. Pariston took him fully in the mouth again, bobbing back and forth as Ging looked at Beans with a straight face dead in the eyes. He picked up the pen and scribbled down something resembling his signature. Suddenly, Pariston grabbed his inner thighs, squeezing hard. 

Ging’s knee smacked the underside of the desk. That  _ bastard!  _ Pariston knew where he was sensitive, but he’d been teasing all this time, waiting for the perfect moment for him to fuck up. 

“Ging-san?”

“My chair is broken, can you put in an order for a new one?” asked Ging, placing his hand on his throbbing knee from where he had banged it on the underside of the desk. Beans cheerfully smiled at him, blissfully unaware.

“That I can do, Ging-san. Does this mean you’ll be in office longer?”

“No.”  _ No longer _ . He was almost gone. Any second now. 

“Alright, I’ll do it anyways,” said Beans. And with that, he gave Ging a little wave and shut the door. Pariston slowly took Ging’s cock out of his mouth, still pinching it between two fingers as he began to speak. 

“Well, I have to admit, I thought you were going to get caught for s-”

Maybe it was the relief that Beans hadn’t caught them. Or maybe it was the exact way Pariston was holding his dick. Maybe it was the way that Pariston’s sweaty, frazzled face looked with his cheeks flushed pink and his lips swollen and red. Or maybe, it was just good luck. 

Pariston closed his eyes just in time as Ging painted his face like a glazed donut. 

“There, that’s  _ my _ signature,” said Ging, as Pariston remained completely still. There was a long and awkward pause before Pariston spoke again. 

“If you signed my face, and I signed your genitals, contractually speaking this means we have to do it again-”

“Do you want a tissue?” Ging asked to shut Pariston up, before realizing that he didn’t keep tissues in his office. This was  _ his _ office, afterall. Fuck. “Or uh, just go to the bathroom and grab some paper towels-”

“Oh Ging already? You want to do me in the bathroom too?”

Pariston was all too eager. It would have been endearing if he wasn’t so…. Pariston.

“What, no, I-...” Ging paused and looked at his half hard erection. He shrugged. “Fuck it. Why not.” He grabbed some old, hopefully unimportant, papers from his desk drawer and handed them to Pariston as he pulled his pants back up and readjusted his clothes. Perhaps he didn’t look  _ too _ tousled, but it wasn’t like people paid attention to his looks anyways. Pariston was a whole different case. But that wasn’t  _ his _ problem. 

* * *

“Has anyone seen Ging?” asked Pyon, walking into the staff room. “I need to have him clarify about some election stuff.”

“I just saw him and Pariston leave his office,” said Kanzai, pointing down the hallway. “They went that way.”

“Pariston? No, I just left Ging’s office, he wasn’t…there.” Bean’s eyes shrunk as small as they could. He looked straight ahead, suddenly recontextualizing the entire conversation. 

“Oh, ew,  _ again _ ?” asked Pyon, nonchalantly. 

_ “AGAIN?!?!”  _ shouted Kanzai. Beans dropped his clipboard. 

“I think I know how Ging broke his chair…” he muttered under his breath. 

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my friend zaworlduh for beta reading for me! 
> 
> As always, let me know if you liked it!


End file.
